Twenty four hours a day
by LilyBartAndTheOthers
Summary: It was going to be a long day, a very long day. WK fic.
1. Eight am

**Eight am:**

The first time she had opened her eyes and felt a weight on her chest, she had assumed that she simply hadn't slept well and so she was tired. But then the sensation had come back a couple of weeks later and never left her anymore, turning her mornings into a desperate fight against the deep and disturbing desire to run away from her life.

Depression, a mental state characterized by a pessimistic sense of inadequacy and a despondent lack of activity; she had got the diagnosis on the exact same day as the anniversary of her marriage to Stanley, ironically enough.

But she hadn't told him. She hadn't found the strength and the courage to do so.

Sometimes she wondered if anyone had noticed a change in her behavior. It was a dreadful hope, a desperate need to be helped and forgotten at the same time. She had become addicted to the blueness of her Valium pills as others plunged with a fascinating vitality in a world she had never understood that much. She wasn't even sure she looked at them with envy at the end. They were just different and probably dealing with other kind of problems.

The worst was the sound of the alarm-clock. It pierced her eardrums and tightened an invisible grip on her bones until they began to ache, putting thus an end to an artificial world of so-called dreams that actually turned to be completely blank. But at least she felt lighter losing control of her mind even if it was only for a few hours.

She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, counted until ten.

She had established a whole series of rituals vaguely susceptible to ease her loneliness but the truth was that they had ended up weighing even more on her life and she felt trapped in their nets now, too fragile to escape.

She sat up and looked around. The bedroom was still plunged in the dark but the light of the sun had warmed up the curtains and crept under them, sliding slowly on the carpeted floor like a thousand trails of diamonds.

The air hit her lungs as she took a deep breath and she finally stood up, heading straight towards her dressing. Her frame was so fragile that it weighed on her steps like a ton of bricks.

The tranquillizers had stolen her appetite but she kept on eating by automatism and because she didn't want anyone to be intrigued; not that people actually paid attention to what she did but still. She had only abandoned her daily coffees and opted for tea instead. The taste was less strong and the chances were few that it would make her sick on the contrary of caffeine.

"Mr. Will called. He wanted to remind you that you two were supposed to meet at ten in front of The Rockfeller Center."

"I haven't forgotten. Thank you though, Rosie."

Twenty circles with her spoon, causing waves in her green tea; she stopped and brought the mug to her lips. She never drank it the first time, only tried the hot beverage against her flesh before putting it back on the table for a few minutes more.

"Please stop moving, Rosario. You make me feel dizzy."

The maid barely paid attention to her languid complain and kept on opening drawers, metallic sounds of silverware accompanying her rapid movements.

The room began to spin around. She closed her eyes, swallowed hard as her throat tightened suddenly under the tears she didn't want to let come out.

"I should leave now."

For the very first time she didn't touch her tea, not even a single sip. The French toasts remained in the porcelain plate as her napkin kept on resting sagely near the butter knife. She left the kitchen with the bitter sentiment that she had reached another stage in the sweet downfall of her mind and her breakfast was now resumed in the depth of some melancholic thoughts.

She decided to go mid-town walking in order to balance the slight failure of the morning. Perhaps if she got mixed with the crowd she would feel more alive at some point. She had fantasized about it so many times that the coldness of the limousine had turned unbearable now. It would come through a wave, a warm one; spreading from her lower stomach to her heart and then she would smile for being there, at last.

The sidewalks of Fifth Avenue were crowded, gloves and scarves getting mixed in the paleness of a winter day without any snow. The sky was gray, the wind icy but a unique atmosphere seemed to have taken possession of the city and the world was all of a sudden boiling.

She finally made her way to the ice-rink and leaned against the low-wall. Checking the time on her watch, her eyes finally focalized on the strangers sliding on the ice. She wished she had learned how to skate. As a matter of fact she wished she had been in capacity to do a thousand different things but life was never what it seemed and so she was pretty useless at the end, alone and sad.

"Happy Christmas Eve…"

His breath caressed her ear, sending a wave of shivers down her spine. She turned around, rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Good morning, Wilma."

It was probably annoying at some point but overplaying was the only way she had found to prevent people from guessing the slightest thing about her current state of mind. Sadly enough, they seemed to buy it pretty easily.

"How about starting by a coffee? This is a long day we're going to live."

She noticed the despair in his voice and bit the inside of her mouth, hurting herself more than the half-confession her so-called friend had just made.

Her depression had developed her sensibility towards other people's hidden feelings and Will's were always so easy to guess; too easy.

She nodded and began to walk by his side.

"Yes, honey. You have no idea…"

Her sigh slid on her lips, a long one; heavy.


	2. Ten am

**Ten am:**

It seemed that the world hadn't followed. They had entered a coffee shop and all of a sudden the chaotic brouhaha of the streets had ceased, the silence absorbing them in all its glory. It made her feel uncomfortable. At least when people talked the chances they would pay attention to her were very rare if not completely inexistent and so she barely had to pretend. It was a very effective way to save the poor energy that her body had kept.

"So we have to stop by the bank to sign the papers then we head straight to The Bronx where they're expecting us around eleven. We stay there for a couple of hours, get a snack then we have to be in Brooklyn for the…"

Will's words were making their way to her brain but a mechanism of defense prevented them from staying in her head. If she had been asked to, she would have been unable to repeat her friend's sentences.

She didn't do that on purpose. It just refused to reach her mind properly and that was why she felt so blank at the end, empty.

Abdicating before the impossibility to follow Will's speech, she turned her head around and looked at the passers-by in the street. Their vitality seemed to steal hers before leaving her behind in a state of extreme fatigue and shame.

"Karen, are you listening to me?"

The call of her name pushed her back towards Will but she didn't reply, simply stared at him completely disarmed.

"Could you please for once try to make an effort and behave like an adult? I know I'm not as frivolous as Jack and you would have preferred to spend your whole day plunged in a bath of vodka but you still have some business things to do before and since I'm your attorney, you have to deal with it; that you like it or not."

She couldn't blame his misunderstanding since she remained so quiet about everything but above the words, it was the general vision he had of her that hurt the most. She wasn't an alcoholic, a heartless billionaire who spent her days in a blurry ocean of pills. She knew this person wasn't her but yet she had no idea of whom she really was supposed to be.

Perhaps one day someone would be able to give her a proper answer and realize that her appearances were only the desperate mirror of her silent distress. She was dying.

"I'm sorry."

She usually would have replied by some so-called insensitive remark but she hadn't the strength to do so that morning. She hadn't touched her breakfast, had barely eaten the day before. She was too weak.

For the hundredth time she grabbed her tea and let her fingers caress the mug pointlessly.

"Karen, are you alright?"

The tone of his voice scared her because for the very first time Will sounded sincere and preoccupied. As long as she wouldn't lock her eyes with his, she knew that she would be fine. She smiled and finally nodded.

"I'm just a little tired. I haven't slept very well last night."

"Is everything okay with Stanley?"

What would have happened if she had let her mask fall down and burst into tears at this exact moment? She had heard so many times about people touching the bottom of their miserable lives that she didn't even want to think it could occur to her. Besides how could someone help her if she had no idea why she had fallen into a depression? It was illogical.

"Honey, could we speak about something else, please? Or just stay quiet, I don't know…"

She rolled her eyes but the room began to spin around. Swallowing hard, she leaned her forehead against her hand and closed her eyes tightly.

His absence of an immediate reply stirred up a sentiment of guilt over her mind and within a second she became sure that she had made him uncomfortable enough, for absolutely no reason. Just because she was suffering doesn't mean that the others had to go through the same.

He had been nice to her, maybe too much at the end.

"No…"

She completely forgot about her so-called shield and looked up at him, astonished. He hadn't sounded firm, even less determined but he still had turned down her request and that was something she wasn't used to. It took her aback so much that she remained speechless for very long seconds, trying to analyze whatever his eyes were saying.

He seemed scared and worried.

"Stanley and I are perfectly fine. As a matter of fact we haven't argued in a very long time so please let's just drop out the subject now."

She had come to the point where she was sure that she would never make her way out of her melancholic state of mind because when you were trapped in the nets of depression it was forever. Sometimes you thought that you had found the key to escape from your pale soul but then you failed again and it was even harsher than putting an end to any desire to ever get rid of it.

"You haven't touched your tea."

Three sips and she stood up unexpectedly, nervously. She put on her coat, grabbed her bag and motioned the door with her head.

"Let's go now."

She didn't wait for him to move on and hurried to the exit, trying desperately to forget that even her tea now was tasteless. Her fingers brushed the door and she was about to push it when she felt his hand on her lower back. It made her freeze, gasp. She turned her head around to look at him but got stop halfway by his unexpected kiss on her temple.

His lips were soft and warm against her cold skin but the shy sentiment of well-being that his gesture stirred up died almost immediately in the depths of her incomprehensible sadness. She locked her eyes with his.

He looked lost but way too honest to give him some harsh reply so she just pushed the door and stepped out.

Maybe one day Karen would be able to tell him how much this stolen kiss had meant but at ten thirty in that Christmas Eve morning, it was still way too hard for her to deal with her intricate feelings.


	3. Noon

**Noon:**

The problem didn't come from the photographers whom had been hired for the event because she had learned little by little how to put her feelings aside and give them the smile they all required. No, the actual thing that paralyzed her was the children and this urge of love and tenderness she was unable to properly give them when it was all they were asking for.

_Prepare a speech, read it out loud and spend some time with the kids; convincingly enough. Nobody has to think that I married a heartless bitch._

She was sure he had never meant to hurt her or actually thought that she belonged to such a low category but the words had stuck to her mind and got engraved in her brain, her fear growing with time that she might disappoint him at some point. A single step off the limits was enough to break into pieces the fragile trust Stanley had in her.

Perhaps it had played a role in her perpetual increasing repulsion towards charity events. It had never been about the offered money but her reputation.

Clutched to her glass of Champagne, Karen was looking absent-mindedly at the crowd of guests when someone bumped on her thigh.

"Damn, watch out!"

The harshness of her tone came up before she realized the consequences it might have, if not on the rest of the day, at least on the rest of her life.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

She stopped halfway when her hazel eyes got locked with a little girl's who was holding an old rag doll.

"May I help you?"

She knew she sounded ridiculous and her so-called distance voice shouldn't have been used at this precise moment but she couldn't help it.

"You haven't played with me yet. Carol told me that you would play with me."

"But I can't because I'm drinking. See, this is what happens when people keep on lying."

She had ceased to feel bad for a very long time, no mattered the pain that could suddenly lit up her interlocutor's face, even less the age of this one. And so she looked blankly at the little girl turn around and leave with her head down. She was probably disappointed if not simply hurt but if there was something Karen didn't manage to do anymore it was dealing with the orphan children she had to face on a very regular basis. She lacked strength and self-confidence and it always made her feel dizzy at the end. So she generally accepted some drawings, posed for the thousandth picture then decided to leave.

A short, abrupt sip and she put down her empty glass on the closest table. She made a step forward but stopped and stared at the groups of people. They were all in full conversation, completely unaware of her absence.

Depression seemed to find a cold resonance in loneliness.

A shiver ran down her spine as she lost her balance and vaguely tumbled until she felt the firm grip of a hand on her arm.

"Hey, that hurts!"

For the second time since she had met him at The Rockfeller Center, the contradictions of Will's face hit her with confusion. He seemed angry _ for whatever reason she would probably come to know very soon _ but his eyes didn't seem to tell the same story and so he looked troubled as if he was looking for the clue that would give light to the rest of some blurry life, the key of an old, unresolved mystery.

"What's going on with you? There's a little girl crying in the room next door because she said you refused to play with her. Sometimes I really wonder why I still get hope over the fact you might not be the selfish queen you love so much playing but I'm more and more having a feeling that it's actually who you really are and not just some plain, sick game of yours."

"I signed a check and accepted some drawings. There is no contract that stipulates I have to play with those needy kids and you know it. You can't force me to do so."

The worse she was feeling, the harsher her voice was increasing in the iciness of a barely control murmur. She didn't want to draw attention over their argument. It would certainly not help her to make her wish come true and so disappear from the surface of Earth.

"Then make an effort. What would it cost you, anyway? You might don't like children but it's part of your job."

It didn't break her heart into pieces but opened back a very old wound and all of a sudden it was just like the day she had understood a couple of essential things and then she had got caught up in this dark, bottomless whirl.

"You have no right to tell that to me, Will. This is so unfair because it's not true; so not true. Has it ever crossed your stubborn, arrogant mind that if I remained distant with children it might have been for a whole different reason? Have you ever come to imagine that maybe, every time I had to face one of those abandoned kids it simply reduced my heart into ashes because they kept on reminding me of… One of the most essential aspects of a life and this so-called base is still missing to mine."

Her voice had turned lower and extremely fragile as if instead of running on her cheeks, her tears had slid down over her heart and she was now crying from the inside; slowly, calmly. She swallowed hard and shook her head.

"Give me a fucking break, Will."

For the very first time in a decade and a half of charity events, Karen left without saying goodbye to the hostess. She passed next to the guests and hurried outside before finally collapsing against the wall of the orphanage.

The tears burst out. She looked up, turned her head around.

There wasn't a single soul to witness her breakdown in the middle of the street but curiously enough, she didn't feel relieved; only sadder, empty and aching.


	4. One thirty pm

**One thirty pm:**

"You should try to eat something."

"I'm not hungry."

Swallowing hard to repress a face of disgust, she pushed away the greasy hotdog and looked at the passers-by in the street. Lately it had turned into her single activity and she had got addicted to the emptiness it brought her then. She felt like she was watching some movie and nobody could see her since she was on the other side of the screen. It was an odd, unrealistic sensation.

"Karen, listen… I'm sorry."

An abrupt motion of her hand cut his sigh and she shook her head. She knew he was sincere, as a matter of fact he always was and that was something she appreciated a lot even though she never said it but she couldn't let him do so, not now.

"Oh no, please… Don't apologize. You're going to make it worse. We only have to be sorry when there's something we'd be blamed about and as long as I know, this is not your fault; just mine."

Uncomfortable, she grabbed a napkin and began to tear it up nervously. The smell of grease was oppressing her throat, making her feel nauseous. A chill ran down her spine. She was sweating.

"Don't you think it's crowded? I think it is. I think Gray's Papaya is always too crowded."

"Karen…"

His hand on her wrist; she stared at his skin on hers, the way she looked so pale, almost invisible.

She had rushed into the limousine and within a minute he had stepped in too, not saying a word. The car had driven off and they had left the orphanage behind while a burning wound was slowly bleeding over her soul, sliding icily along his mind. The rest of the journey to The Upper West Side had been silent, cold and embarrassed.

"Speak to me."

Why did he always have to sound so sweet in such moments? How did he manage to put aside his obvious resentment towards her and make her feel like he did care about her life? His tone of voice fitted the situation, every time; not too soft, not too firm.

Then it was hard to say that perfection didn't exist.

"It's nothing. I'm just having a bad day, a bad time. _C'est la vie._"

She shrugged and smiled at him but the bitterness of her heart came to weigh over her lips and very soon she looked down at the ground to avoid his gaze.

"It's a matter of time, Karen. I'm sure you'll end up…"

"No, I guess I can't have babies. I mean… Let's face the facts: eleven years of marriage and nothing, absolutely nothing. At some point we were trying but now it's just… Well, it's nothing."

"Have you gone through a medical checkup, some exams?"

Biting her lower lip she frowned, vaguely shook her head; almost shyly.

"Why didn't you do that? They might help you."

She had thought about it a million times. The days she had enough courage, she made an appointment. Once she had even come to the building of the clinic and stared at the door intently as the doorman had waited for an indication before moving on. But she had turned around and run away.

"I prefer ignorance now. Thinking destroys me."

She was brushing the bottom but could barely feel it. In a nervous motion she took her bottle of Valium out of her bag and gulped down two pills. She didn't even need water now. It had become so easy. She was about to grab her cell phone in order to check her messages when she realized that Will was still staring at her.

"What do you want, honey?"

"Nothing, I just wonder when I stopped observing you and didn't notice that you were suffering."

"I am not suffering. I'm perfectly fine, get over it. I don't do emotions. I thought you would know it by now."

"What is your biggest dream?"

The question took her aback and she looked at him perplexed, her coat hanging on her arms. She raised an eyebrow then finally got fully dressed and grabbed her bag before turning away.

"I stopped having dreams when my mother promised me to teach me ice-skating and she never did."

Manhattan absorbed their odd lunchtime as they drove off towards Brooklyn and sat on the very left side of the car, Karen observed the street; the passers-by. They were the only aspect left of her dreams, this semblance of life and the sensation that everyone wasn't dying of the inside as she was. There was nothing reassuring about it, on the contrary. For once she would have wished nothing but be forgotten and disappear among the crowd.

Then, she saw herself come closer to Will. It seemed that her brain wasn't controlling her body anymore and every part of it had reached a strange degree of independence. She was moving without deciding so. It was weird.

For a couple of seconds she wondered if he would ever turn his head around and look at her properly instead of staring blankly at the buildings speeding past by the window. If he did not then she would go back to her lonely seat.

He did. She swallowed hard then buried her face in his neck to stifle her cries as he took her in his arms; rocking her softly.


	5. Three pm

**Three pm:**

Children were running everywhere around her, screaming and laughing. They seemed so happy in spite of their miserable lives that Karen couldn't help but wondering why, how they managed to do so. Perhaps it was their innocence and all of a sudden she came to understand the important weight of keeping it alive. She hadn't done so and now everything was broken, damaged and extremely fragile.

"It was a pleasure to see you here, Mrs. Walker. You know, the kids would really appreciate if you stopped by from time to time. It's the only way for them to realize that they're not forgotten or abandoned by everyone."

A Santa Claus passed in front of her and waved goodbye at the young audience he had just had. They replied immediately in a joyful unison. It made her smile. She turned her head around and nodded at the responsible of the orphanage.

"I will. I promise I will. It's… It's a real joy for me too."

And it was true; disturbing enough but true.

"Are you ready, Karen? We have to go now."

For a couple of seconds she wondered if Will had overheard what she had just said but almost immediately she finally decided to not care. She had cried on his shoulder and didn't bother to give him the slightest explanation so why would a couple of words plunge her in a worse situation? She wasn't fine and had let him know. She had to assume her choice now.

"We already have to go? I thought they were expecting us around four thirty."

"We have a last-minute change, sorry."

A bit reluctantly she followed him without complaining. Something had happened when she had burst into tears against him in the limousine and all of a sudden it was hard to keep alive the teasing, all those appearances she had learned to bear as if they actually were a part of her.

"Where are we going to, honey?"

Will opened the door of the car but didn't say the slightest thing. She rolled her eyes and sighed, not exasperated but disarmed and she didn't like that. It made her feel too weak.

"Could you please tell me, Will?"

She stepped into the limousine but her eyes never left his. Her determination was stealing a lot of her energy and even if her knees began to feel weak, she held it on until he got resigned.

"Let me guide you. Just trust me, Karen."

"I do."

He smiled at her and pressed her hand.

The traffic was dense and it took them a very long time to go back to Manhattan. When they finally stopped in front of one of the gates of Central Park, she looked at Will and raised a dubitative eyebrow.

"There we are. Come on!"

She understood very quickly as they made their way to the ice-rink and Will tended her the skates. Her heart speeded up its pace; her mouth became dry. When had she lost all her self-confidence? She shook her head vehemently.

"Oh no, I'm not going to do that."

"Yes, you are. Just because a dream didn't turn exactly as you had planned, a part of it still can come true at some point. I won't let go of your hand but I want you to be able to say that you did learn how to ice-skate."

"It's going to be so humiliating, Will. I mean… Look at these people. They know how to slide on the ice. I'm just going to make a fool of myself and this is something I can't accept."

He won though and very soon she found herself on the white surface, clutched to him as if her life depended on it and if she had had to be completely honest, it was exactly how she was feeling. Very slowly he started moving and suddenly the wind caressed her nape, passing softly through her hair.

"Are you okay or you want me to slow down?"

"No, it's alright. Just go on…"

She gasped as he speeded up the pace and began to turn around but the sensation of lightness that was slowly invading her body was winning over her fears, the latent pain oppressing her chest.

The rest seemed to belong to an odd dream.

"Let go of my hand, please. I want to try by myself."

For the very first time Will turned out to be the one who looked surprised but he didn't say anything and simply obeyed to her soft order.

She kept on sliding, maybe not with a lot of balance but she was still doing it and it made her feel so light; truly happy for the very first time in a long while.

She speeded up her pace and turned around, laughing loud. The air was so cool, the sky gray but in a beautiful shade and the smell of hot chocolate coming straight from the little café was bewitching enough to make her feel fine.

Well-being; it hadn't happened for such a long time.

"Look at me, I'm ice-skating!"

She made another turn, taken away by her laughter. Life sounded nice all of a sudden.

"I'm ice-skating!"

Her right foot tried to go forward a bit too quickly, sliding with strength on the ice. Within a second she fell down and looked around. Nobody seemed to mind. People were just smiling, enjoying the freedom that brought ice-skating.

"Are you okay?"

She grabbed Will's hand and stood up back but slid again; fell in his arms. She stayed there for a second then kissed his cheek, locked her eyes with his as their fingers were intertwined.

"Yes, I am."

A bright smile came to illuminate her features.


	6. Six pm

**Six pm:**

They left the bank and she took his hand for no particular reason but an odd desire to feel the heat of his soul next to hers. Something had happened on the ice rink and she couldn't deny it; didn't want to as a matter of fact. His gesture hadn't just touched her but let her understand that no, she wasn't forgotten yet.

"Do you mind if we stop by Zabar's before? I have a last-minute shopping to do for tonight."

"No, it's okay."

She would have given anything to make this day last a bit longer if not for the eternity. But now the sky was turning dark, a strong anxiety took possession of her as she thought about the moment she would have to come back to the mansion and face the nothingness of her so-called life. Unexpectedly enough she had enjoyed her day with Will, a lot; maybe too much.

They passed the door of the deli. She frowned, troubled by the icy night that was still waiting for her at the end. She was just going through an interlude which sweetness would eventually turn into bitterness.

"I want some cheese and maybe another bottle of wine. Do you want some bread?"

She shrugged then nodded evasively. She had just realized that she hadn't entered a supermarket for over a decade and it sounded sad; ridiculous enough. She felt ashamed.

Will seemed to know the place by heart, moving from a shelf to another with the simplicity of evidence. Maybe it was what she lacked the most: a sort of routine, a casual one that would keep on telling her that it was the way existence should have been and that yes, she was indeed alive. Being lost didn't mean that she was about to die.

"What do you do tomorrow?"

"Oh… I don't know. I suppose I will… I will stay at home. Stanley will be back in the evening or at least he should so."

"How come you didn't follow him today?"

"He needed someone for the charity events. I'm his wife; it's my role, the only one actually."

Her self-remark made her laugh bitterly. None of them insisted since the obviousness of the meaning was too sharp, too clear.

"But you could have joined him tonight. I mean his family is in The Hamptons. It's not very far."

"Cathy was invited. I'm not family for them, Will. I didn't give Stanley the slightest child and as long as things remain like that, I won't be accepted."

It was a fact among others and she had come to the point that it didn't matter anymore. She might have been hurt at the beginning when her numerous efforts had finally opened her Stanley's arms but now she had understood that her marriage was more about appearances than real feelings and the days weighed less when she was far from him.

But Will didn't react the same and froze in the middle of the aisle. Staring at her in disbelief, he frowned and shook his head as if the words couldn't connect to his brain properly for lacking sense.

"I'm fine with it, honey. Don't be worried."

"Then tell me what's happening. Tell me why you're so sad."

"I'm not sad."

Ridiculous self-defense; she blushed.

"Then melancholic unless I should say depressed; you're not being yourself."

"How can you say?"

"I noticed the difference when you were ice-skating. I can't believe it took me so long… I'm sorry I haven't been able to read your distress earlier but you smiled at me on the ice rink, it hit me almost immediately. The brightness of your features and your eyes that were sparkling; you seemed alive and happy to be."

"You know I'm not comfortable when it comes to my feelings."

Someone arrived in the aisle and Will came closer to her in order to make some room for the stranger. It was a woman in her fifties. She looked tired, with dark circles under her eyes and this weight on her lips that only showed up the fact she hadn't smiled in a very long while.

Karen stared at her and swallowed hard. She didn't want to be identified to this woman.

She locked her eyes with Will's brown ones. Her heart was beating loud for whatever reason she couldn't explain. Somehow she would have loved thinking it was just a rush of life running back through her veins, feeding her brain and the rest of her body.

"Then just allow me to guess when you're not feeling well."

"What would it change?"

Will made a step closer. She could feel his breath on her face and it drove her crazy.

"My heart wouldn't break into pieces."

Before her realizing it, his lips found hers. She never opposed any resistance, on the contrary. Within a couple of seconds she relaxed in his arms as they deepened the kiss. She wished she had stopped thinking and just enjoyed the moment but a million of ideas were passing through her head without really stopping and she didn't have time enough to catch them up for a quick analyze. She felt dizzy.

He pushed her against the shelf, his hands going slowly down her waist. A urge was boiling in her lower stomach like the desperate need to be awoken by his touch, the odd sensation of life and desire that found their way to her lips and she let go of everything.

"Hmm… Excuse me."

They broke apart and stared at the woman _ the lonely one _ with perplexity then moved away so that she could grab a bottle of spices.

When Karen's eyes met Will's back, she let go of his neck and shook her head.

"I'm sorry, so sorry."

She ran away.


	7. Eight pm

**Eight pm:**

"But wasn't she supposed to come over here with you, right after this busy schedule of charity events?"

For the thousandth time, Will checked the turkey in the oven and shrugged at Grace's comment.

"Sometimes life doesn't turn out as planned."

The veracity of his own comment caused a chill to run down his spine, an odd absence of regret over his heart. Because yes, for some illogical reason, if he had had to come backwards in time he would have kissed Karen again but never let go of her hand. And she would be there now, by his side.

"But she's coming, isn't she? Whether you argued or…"

"We didn't argue!"

"Whatever, she can't spend Christmas Eve on her own. It's way too depressing."

Jack's last word hit him pretty hard. Depression; since he had come back to his flat alone, Will hadn't stopped thinking about Karen and all those secrets she had slowly let come out. Most of them involuntarily, she wasn't the kind of person who complained about anything. That was the danger about her because it was so complicated then to understand when she was suffering.

The pills, her sudden loss of weight; everything was at last making sense in his head but in a very harsh way he would have preferred to be wrong.

The door flew open and she appeared wearing in a deep red, ankle-length dress; a bright smile on her lips. For a furtive second they crossed each other's gaze. He knew immediately that she was just pretending.

"Well you're finally here. I was getting worried, Karen; worried and hungry."

The diner went smoothly in spite of their constant fight to not lock their eyes with each other's and stir up then a wave of embarrassment. Maybe it was how things would be now, avoided and false for them being too afraid of facing anything else. Did it pass unnoticed or Grace and Jack were way too focalized on their own person?

At the end it was always the same, we just forgot about the essential details.

Then following the strength of time that never stopped in spite of whatever people went through, midnight showed up and they all rushed to the tree.

Three presents each one, it was their tradition. Sometimes Karen wondered how she had managed to live without her friends for so many years; how her existence had probably been even more tasteless. And what would happen next? What would happen when they got married and have children? She would be left behind, as usual; looking desperately at a now empty road while the bitter sentiment to have vanished from their mind with such facility would spread over her heart.

She had always been dropped out, since the very beginning; small wonder why she was so afraid to feel lonely and depressed.

The dreadful moment arrived and as Will tended her two presents, she frowned completely taken aback. For the very first time of the evening, she dared to look up in his eyes but her heart speeded up its pace immediately responding to an odd chemistry.

"But we always get just one present from each one."

"It's… Hmm, last-minute change…"

They sounded embarrassed and the softness of their voices didn't pass unnoticed. Grace and Jack stopped to stare at them, vaguely confused. They would probably come to the conclusion that it was just a break from their perpetual arguments. Nobody was supposed to fight on Christmas time after all.

Karen grabbed the smaller present and unwrapped it nervously. It was an old publication of some Virginia Woolf's novel. He knew how she had developed a weird addiction to the darkness of the author's mind. Now perhaps he understood that she simply could recognize herself in the despair of the English woman.

The second present was large, in a rectangular box. She took it in her hands and gasped under the weight. She opened it, bit the inside of her mouth.

"Karen Walker doesn't rent. She owns all the things she likes so I thought it was a necessary change."

The tears were caressing her eyes but she kept on swallowing them back, head down concentrated on the pair of black leather ice-skates.

They had met up by ten in the morning, she had confessed a part of her pain by noon and they had kissed by six in the afternoon. It seemed that time was speeding up its pace, rushing through the rules of their lives and their implicit codes of impossibility. She was married to Stanley; Will was just a friend.

She had rushed away but the taste of his lips had remained on hers like the subtle light of true happiness.

It just wasn't supposed to happen again.

"Let's go ice-skating!"

And within ten minutes the four friends were heading to Central Park under the darkness of the night, a chilly wind running on their necks as the smell of a still invisible snow went dizzily to their heads.

The ice-rink was crowded and very soon she lost sight of her friends. Her new skates were perfect and when she had begun to slide on the ice, she had felt light again. Someone grabbed her wrist. She turned around.

It was Will.

"Thank you for everything, honey. Thank you for everything…"

Her smile froze as she felt him leaning over and approaching her lips slowly. She was dying for another touch, the heat of his body against hers; dreading it too more than anything.

He kissed her and all of a sudden she forgot all the rest; the laughs of the skaters, the sound of the metal brushing the ice. Her tongue caressed his lips and she moaned in his mouth, her heart breaking into pieces.

"I love you, Karen."

Her blood turned so cold that she lost her balance and looked around but Grace and Jack were nowhere to be seen.

"But… How could you…"

"It might have been the matter of a day but I still know one thing: I love you."

Something fell all of a sudden between her leather glove and her coat, right on her pale skin. She looked down at it and realized it was snowing.

Her hazel eyes looked for his brown ones.

She didn't take a deep breath, didn't analyze the dark shades of her consequences and simply let the words brush her shaking lips.

"I love you too, Will."

She captured his lips in a soft kiss, disarmed before the days that had to come and how they would turn at the end. She smiled in his mouth as the fragility of life caressed her mind.

And how twenty-four hours were enough to save a lonely soul.


End file.
